A Day in the Life of Darth Vader: Managing
by Sith Master2019
Summary: Our favorite Sith Lord is sent to manage the local Death Star grocery store, Death-Mart. He must find a way to reclaim his dignity and take command from Tarkin.


_**Goes hand in hand with my A Day in the Life of Darth Vader fics on my other Xarkun account, however, since not all of you know of it, I have decided to post this one here. Go to my Xarkun account for more comedy fan fics.**_

_A Day in the Life of Darth Vader: Managing _

_By Sith Master2019_

"Lord Vader," addressed the ugly, British-accented Emperor Palpatine as his apprentice kneeled before him in the Imperial Throne Room on Coruscant. "I have a new assignment for you."

"What is thy bidding, my master?" Vader inquired. The joint in his left knee popped audibly.

"Rise, Lord Vader, before your joints become too stiff."

"Thank you, my master," Vader said, rising. Both of his knees popped. He sighed in relief.

"Now, Lord Vader, I am sending you to oversee proceedings in the Death Star."

"Very good, very good. What is this Death Star?"

"It is a battle station we will use to wipe out our enemies."

"Are you telling me that you have built a weapon of mass construction, my master?"

"No, Lord Vader, a weapon of mass _destruction_."

"You mean, like your cooking?"

"No, no, my apprentice. That is a weapon of mass constipation. This is more like a weapon which is extremely dangerous to the existence of innocent bystanders."

"Like our government?"

"Exactly! However, this represents a physical danger, not an economic one."

"I see… like… STDs, perhaps?"

"No, no, nothing sexual. More like… a huge laser gun used to destroy planets."

"I see…. And I will be in charge of this… gun."

"Not exactly. You will be running the… grocery store aboard the Death Star."

"Why do we need a grocery store aboard the Death Star, my master?"

"Because, the workers upon it need a place to buy sustenance."

"Shouldn't we provide that for free?"

"What?! No! That's foolish."

"But, master, we already tax the living shit out of everyone in the Empire. Shouldn't we at least be kind of enough to provide our employees with free food?"

"You see, Lord Vader, that's where you're wrong! We'd just have to tax everyone even more to do that! Before you know it, we're communists, the money's gotta come from somewhere and I don't want to have to deal with all the bullshit of figuring our how to allocate it. My math skills are remedial, that's part of the reason our economy just took a dump. This is why I'm demoting you!"

"What?! You're demoting me because you suck at math?! Wait, you're DEMOTING me?!"

The Emperor rolled his eyes. "Obviously. I'm giving Tarkin command of the Death Star."

"But Tarkin's a drunk and a sex offender!"

"That may be so, Lord Vader, but you've grown too soft."

"Master, pardon me, but that is just wrong! It's very unnatural to grow hard in the presence of nerfs!"

The Emperor narrowed his eyes. "Is this an attempt to psych me out, my apprentice? Are you plotting my betrayal?"

"No, I'm commenting on Tarkin's sick taste."

"Are you telling me that Tarkin has a sexual obsession with nerfs?"

"Oh, yes, haven't you seen the videos on the internet?"

"No, I haven't…. Look, Vader, this is not going to work. You are now the manager of the grocery store and Tarkin's got command. You leave tomorrow."

"But this is so unfair! I'm your apprentice."

"You're also a bum and freeloader that's had every damn thing handed to you on a silver platter throughout your entire life."

"I was a slave!"

"Oh, don't give me that bullshit. Maybe you missed Episode II, you know, where you and Padmé hit it off? I mean, holy shit, Vader! Did you hear your lines? And then Portman screwed you after _that_? Christ! That's what I call getting shit handed to you on a silver platter."

Vader paused. "What the hell are you talking about?! Who's Portman?"

"Never mind that, it's Lucas's fault anyway. Look, just get your ass to the Death Star. You need to learn the benefits of _real _work. Only then will you be strong enough with the Dark Side to properly obtain compensation from gorgeous women…."

Vader bowed. "Very well, my master. I will not fail you."

"I know you wont. Oh, by the way, Tarkin captured princess Leia. You're an expert interrogator, so before you begin your new job, I want you to interrogate her and find out where the Rebel base is."

"Very well."

"Oh, and Lord Vader, we don't want a lawsuit on our hands, so I suggest you actually used the probe on the _interrogation droid_ this time."

"Awww, come _on_!"

"I'm afraid I must be firm on this, Lord Vader. If I find out you penetrated the prisoner by other means, I will further demote you to sweep the shit out of the nerf pens aboard the Death Star."

"Why are there nerf pens aboard the Death Star?"

The Emperor shrugged. "Tarkin requested them."

"I knew it! Listen, my master, you—"

"Vader, just get the hell out of my sight and get your ass aboard the Death Star."

Vader bowed, knowing better than to argue with his master. "Thank you very much, my master. I will not fail you."

"Good. By the way, I'm cutting your salary so you can no longer order Pay Per View. Your history is obscene. You ordered Dead Chicks Gone Wild over five thousand, three hundred and seventy times! Why the hell do you even bother?! You have no lower extremities!"

"You revoked my clearance to my porn show?!"

"Yes, Lord Vader. I did."

"But—"

"This is non negotiable. Now, go!"

"Fuck you very much, my master."

"Same to you, you sick... advocator of necrophilia!"

Vader flipped the Emperor off and took a shuttle to the Death Star.

XxX

Princess Leia had had a very bad day. To make a long story short, her stylist had been smoking some pot and thought it was a good idea to style her hair like she had cinnamon buns on either side of her head. The homosexual man had claimed it would be an instant classic, but Leia hated it. On top of that, she'd been taken in to custody by the Imperials and was now sitting in a cell with ZERO comforts. It didn't even have a friggin bathroom, just a shithole in the floor!

Vader entered her cell then.

"AHA!" Leia cried, standing up. "Darth Vader, only you could be so bold! The Imperial Senate will not stand for this. When they hear you attacked a diplomatic ship and cause me to break a nail—"

"Quit being such a bitch, your assness," said Vader, trying to be clever. Leia's ass was quite big, so he decided to interchange the word assness with highness. "You weren't on any mercy mission. You are a hooker, part of the Rebel Alliance, and a traitor!"

"I'm not a hooker."

"Sure you're not. Anyway, let's get this over with. Where are the plans you stole?"

"Plans?! I ain't gotch yo plans!" Leia snapped, suddenly sounding suspiciously like a whorish piece of white trash.

"Please, Princess, don't make me penetrate you."

"Penetrate me? You ain't got no balls, son! How you gonna pen'trate me?"

"I shall use the mind probe."

Leia scoffed. "Mind probe. What, does it enter your ear?"

"Oh, for the love of Mike. I can't do this!"

"Hahahahhaaha! I knew my mental superiority would win out! Girls kick ass; it's on the shirt."

Vader rolled his eyes behind his mask.

"Fuck me; I'm going to go manage the grocery store."

"You manage a grocery store?!"

Leia burst out laughing.

Vader shook his fist at her threateningly.

"Listen here, you dirty little ho, I _will _probe you if you provoke me."

Leia provoked him.

She would never, ever, EVER be the same again. The mind probe was powerful and the droid was strong.

XxX

Vader had left the droid with the Princess and gone on to manage his grocery store called Death-Mart. He figured he ought to first locate the assistant manager. He found the man almost immediately. The assistant manager was an incredibly bulbous guy with greasy hair and a sweating face; he was guzzling milk from a carton and reeked faintly of booze and pickles.

"What the bloody _hell _are you doing?!" Vader roared.

The man dropped the carton and it spilled everywhere. He looked at Vader in confusion.

"Who the hell are you?!"

Vader felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him, and it was immediately replaced by unrivaled irritation.

"Do not play this game with me, you fat pig. I am Darth Vader. I am the new manager of this Death-Mart."

"You're who."

"Oh, no, no, no, no! I will NOT be put through this crap again. I am _Darth Vader_. Some people call me iron lung, deep throat, protein-bar breath, helmet hair… no, none of this rings a bell?"

The man shook his head.

"Let me put it this way. Unless you want to walk around for the rest of your life with my size twelve boot shoved up your massive ass, you will accept me as your manager and do what I say."

"Yes, sir!"

"First, you will clean up this mess. Second, you will either buy a treadmill and lose weight, or I will slice your belly open and you will dig the fat out yourself. I will not have obese workers in my grocery store!"

"Yes, sir!"

"You know what? Get me a janitor, you've produced a horrid mess here. Also, the fat problem must be tackled first."

"Right away, sir; Lord Vader, sir!"

"Stop calling me sir or I will forcibly strap a girdle around your midsection so tightly that your eyes will pop out of their sockets!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"All right, that does it!"

Vader walked straight up to the fat assistant manager and just socked him straight in his squishy, fat face. The man died instantly from the force of the blow and fell to the floor. The entire station shook when he hit it, and his jelly rolls rippled like water. Vader yelled for a janitor.

A few moments later, a mildly insane looking man with a gangly build and long, greasy hair appeared with a bucket and mop. He dumped the contents of the bucket all over the dead assistant manager. The smell of burning flesh filled the air.

"What the hell is that?" Vader asked.

"Sulfuric acid," hissed the nutty janitor.

"I like the way you think. You are in command now, Manager…."

"Stevenson."

"Manager Stevenson. Together, we will run this grocery store and usurp Tarkin!"

"Sounds like a plan, my black comrade."

"Finish cleaning up this mess. I shall go get myself acquainted with the cashiers."

"Careful. One of 'em has syphilis."

"Hmmm… STDs are intolerable here. This is not some sleazy sex-shop."

"Ohhh trust me, comrade, it is. We got nerfs in the back."

"Hmmmm…."

This gave Vader a VERY good idea.

"I'll return soon, Commander Stevenson. Continue dissolving the body. Can you do something about the smell?"

"No."

"That's too bad. Oh well."

Vader strode down toward the checkout lanes and found the only open one. The fattest woman he'd ever seen was standing behind the cash register. She looked like a cross between Ruben Studdard and Big Mama, except she wasn't black, she was blue-skinned.

Vader strode up to her. She was wearing very tight fitting jeans. Endless amounts of fat poured over their sides. She was also wearing a thong, from what Vader could see. It was all rather repulsive.

"What can I get you?" she asked.

"I am your new manager."

"Okay, you want a hand job, a blow—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" Vader snapped. "This is a respectable grocery store, not a whore service… not that anyone would want your service. No offense, but you are probably the ugliest woman I have ever seen in my entire life."

"I'm a guy."

Awkward silence.

Awkward silence.

The cashier died and Vader walked away toward the nerf pens.

Once there, he produced a syringe, and injected each nerf with a particularly nasty STD. He snickered and walked back to Commander Stevenson who was busily mopping up the gooey remains of the first assistant manager.

"Commander Stevenson, my task is complete."

"What was your task, comrade?"

At that very moment, Tarkin strode by, leading two nerfs behind him.

"I implanted STDs in those nerfs," Vader told the janitor slyly.

"Good one, comrade, good one."

"Oh yes," Vader said evilly. "Just wait until—"

Tarkin ran back into the grocery store, looking incensed.

"VADER!" he roared.

That was quick, Vader thought.

At that very moment, half the personnel on the Death Star decided to go shopping.

"I HAVE…."

"Yes?" Vader prompted as everyone turned to stare.

"VADER!" Tarkin roared. "YOU GAVE ME… _HERPES!_"

Vader burst out laughing and then abruptly stopped when he realized the _literal _meaning of Tarkin's accusation.

"Uh…" Vader trailed off, looking at everyone around. "Commander Stevenson, protect my rear!"

"No comrade, I do not participate in sexual activities with sentient beings."

Everyone stared at the man. He threw some acid at one.

This was the distraction Vader needed. He bolted out of the Death-Mart as fast as possible, but Tarkin was hot on his heels.

"Now see here, Vader!" Tarkin roared, in hot pursuit. "I'm filing a law suit! You gave me herpes!"

The Emperor happened to be walking by.

"Dear Force!" he cried.

Vader and Tarkin halted. The Emperor dropped the cup of tea he was drinking.

"You gave Tarkin herpes?!" the Emperor cried incredulously.

"No, no, no! I injected a nerf with an advanced herpes virus and Tarkin caught it from the nerf."

"WHAT DID YOU SAY, LORD VADER?!"

"Tarkin caught the—"

"No, about the nerfs!"

"I injected—"

"LORD VADER! I AM A NERF HERDER!"

"You mean…."

"Yes!"

"And… the Death-Mart nerfs…."

"YES!"

"And……………………………………………. Oh, shit!"


End file.
